Even the most die-hard Canadian can be forgiven for wondering: Why in God’s name would anyone in their right mind live in a frozen hellhole like this? ~Rick Mercer on CBC
About 6 months before I moved to Canada in 2004, my good friend Anne sent me this quote in a Christmas card. I scoffed, laughed, giggled, tittered even. Comedians always embellish, especially Rick Mercer! Canada can't be that bad, I remember thinking.
It is.
It is a big, old, frozen hellhole.
Vancouver was livable. Oh, I moaned about the cloudy skies and dreary days. A commuter for 4 years, I saw it all; sleet, frazel snow, soft rain, hard rain, sun, mountains, black ice, white ice...
Alas, I wasn't really living in "CANADA". Living in Vancouver is like living in Costa Rica and calling yourself a part of "Central America". Costa Rica is the Disneyland of Central America as Vancouver is in Canada.
Moving to Edmonton has been as shocking as a prostitute dressed up like a Japanese school girl (seen it!). It's cold. And then it is freezing cold. Then bitterly cold. And finally, it becomes unbearable.
Driving a vehicle is dangerous. The roads develop 'ice grooves' that make you feel like you are driving on a scalextric track. Add into the mix a frozen pedestrian who can't see very well because their eyes have been iced-shut, and it becomes a deadly game of "Frogger". 80's toy references aside, there is nothing you can do if your wheels don't grip the snow or ice. Really, it is just a matter of holding onto the wheel and hoping for the best!
-35 would be bearable if your eyelids didn't freeze together and the wind didn't feel like stalactite needles stabbing into your thighs as you shuffle on the sidewalk. Getting dressed in this weather is a process. Layers are the best way combat the sub-zero temperatures, but layers are frustratingly claustrophobic. I used to think "Sub-Zero" was a alco-pop that was quite popular in the 90's. If only by stepping outside your house in -35 could get you drunk real quick, it would make the trek to the train a much more enjoyable walk! It takes an extra 7 - 10 minutes to get dressed a "second time" before leaving the house: Merrell down coat, Sorel boots, cardigan, scarf (sometimes 2) Russian hat, two pairs of gloves later and I am ready to brave the cold. I don't have to do this routine every morning though; I am quickly learning that the weather app on my iPhone is my best friend. -35 to -5 is cold enough to wear the heavy duty weather gear. -4 to +6 means that I can get away with Hunter boots, and a lighter jacket combination. I have to be careful of frost/ice in my Hunters - I've fallen twice already. It was a flurry of pink boots and a lime green umbrella. Again, Anne commented, "What's more embarrassing? Falling over or falling in pink hunter boots?" Touche, Anne. Double Touche.
About 6 months before I moved to Canada in 2004, my good friend Anne sent me this quote in a Christmas card. I scoffed, laughed, giggled, tittered even. Comedians always embellish, especially Rick Mercer! Canada can't be that bad, I remember thinking.
It is.
It is a big, old, frozen hellhole.
Vancouver was livable. Oh, I moaned about the cloudy skies and dreary days. A commuter for 4 years, I saw it all; sleet, frazel snow, soft rain, hard rain, sun, mountains, black ice, white ice...
Alas, I wasn't really living in "CANADA". Living in Vancouver is like living in Costa Rica and calling yourself a part of "Central America". Costa Rica is the Disneyland of Central America as Vancouver is in Canada.
Moving to Edmonton has been as shocking as a prostitute dressed up like a Japanese school girl (seen it!). It's cold. And then it is freezing cold. Then bitterly cold. And finally, it becomes unbearable.
Driving a vehicle is dangerous. The roads develop 'ice grooves' that make you feel like you are driving on a scalextric track. Add into the mix a frozen pedestrian who can't see very well because their eyes have been iced-shut, and it becomes a deadly game of "Frogger". 80's toy references aside, there is nothing you can do if your wheels don't grip the snow or ice. Really, it is just a matter of holding onto the wheel and hoping for the best!
-35 would be bearable if your eyelids didn't freeze together and the wind didn't feel like stalactite needles stabbing into your thighs as you shuffle on the sidewalk. Getting dressed in this weather is a process. Layers are the best way combat the sub-zero temperatures, but layers are frustratingly claustrophobic. I used to think "Sub-Zero" was a alco-pop that was quite popular in the 90's. If only by stepping outside your house in -35 could get you drunk real quick, it would make the trek to the train a much more enjoyable walk! It takes an extra 7 - 10 minutes to get dressed a "second time" before leaving the house: Merrell down coat, Sorel boots, cardigan, scarf (sometimes 2) Russian hat, two pairs of gloves later and I am ready to brave the cold. I don't have to do this routine every morning though; I am quickly learning that the weather app on my iPhone is my best friend. -35 to -5 is cold enough to wear the heavy duty weather gear. -4 to +6 means that I can get away with Hunter boots, and a lighter jacket combination. I have to be careful of frost/ice in my Hunters - I've fallen twice already. It was a flurry of pink boots and a lime green umbrella. Again, Anne commented, "What's more embarrassing? Falling over or falling in pink hunter boots?" Touche, Anne. Double Touche.
I'm worried though...I am worried that I am becoming a recluse. If I had cats, I would also fear becoming the crazy cat lady that never leaves her house and finds comfort in a cup of hot chocolate while sitting in front of a heater. I've come to realize that the only way to enjoy winter in Edmonton is to get outside and make the most of it. But stepping outside is like crossing a road in Vietnam...you can't think too much about crossing the road, you just have to brace yourself and do it. Slowly.
Our first journey out was to the Winter Light festival. Ice on Whyte was an ice-carving festival. Chad and I have been to Sapporo's Winter festival, so we were excited to see ice carvings again.
The festival was small, but it was great to see so many people braving the -25 temperatures. Thankfully, the weather stayed warm so the ice carvings were in top form. Scott and Nao went last year and apparently the were melting and soppy looking. I was so impressed by the detail and variety of the sculptures. The slide was incredibly fast. It doesn't look high in the photos, but the speed! So exhilarating! The picture of Chad and I riding down the slide is the perfect metaphor for our time in Edmonton: me, screaming and crying. Chad, calm and in control. After, we warmed up with an Alley Kat Porter at the Next Act Pub.
Thankfully, since I started writing this post, the weather has warmed up considerably. There are what I call "Surprise Puddles" that pool at the corners of the intersections. They are a surprise, because one can never be too sure as to how deep they may be and what consistency they are. Some are hard and easy to step on. Others are half way up your leg deep. Surprise! These are the days that the Hunter boots and I stride confidently. I almost look Canadian on these days. Almost.
Our first journey out was to the Winter Light festival. Ice on Whyte was an ice-carving festival. Chad and I have been to Sapporo's Winter festival, so we were excited to see ice carvings again.
The festival was small, but it was great to see so many people braving the -25 temperatures. Thankfully, the weather stayed warm so the ice carvings were in top form. Scott and Nao went last year and apparently the were melting and soppy looking. I was so impressed by the detail and variety of the sculptures. The slide was incredibly fast. It doesn't look high in the photos, but the speed! So exhilarating! The picture of Chad and I riding down the slide is the perfect metaphor for our time in Edmonton: me, screaming and crying. Chad, calm and in control. After, we warmed up with an Alley Kat Porter at the Next Act Pub.
Thankfully, since I started writing this post, the weather has warmed up considerably. There are what I call "Surprise Puddles" that pool at the corners of the intersections. They are a surprise, because one can never be too sure as to how deep they may be and what consistency they are. Some are hard and easy to step on. Others are half way up your leg deep. Surprise! These are the days that the Hunter boots and I stride confidently. I almost look Canadian on these days. Almost.
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| The Year of the Rabbit's Ass |
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"I Retreat!" says the Rabbit.
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| "I Reign!" says the dragon. |
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| "I feel!" says the Snake. I look a little frightened...and cold. |
Most of the pictures that I took below are SOOC: straight out of the camera! Love my Nikon D90.
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